


have taken more than i have them (it used to be mine)

by briony_larkin



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Abusive Relationship, F/M, Unplanned Pregnancy, considerable plot handwaving, female friendship like whoa, i don't fucking know, like so much disregarding of plot and canon you don't even know, sort of resolved anyway, ust that turns rst pretty damn quick, what the hell am i doing, what the hell is this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 20:04:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6022966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/briony_larkin/pseuds/briony_larkin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy Lewis and Steve Rogers were best friends before she predictably fucked it up. And no, Natasha, she is not running away from him or hiding a secret or anything ridiculous like that. Okay, maybe she is hiding a secret. A sort of big one. But she can't hide it forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	have taken more than i have them (it used to be mine)

**Author's Note:**

> this is the first thing i've ever written for this fandom and this pairing. i'm not really sure how this happened. i'm not really sure what this is. but hey, here's this thing.

The whir of the plane engines shouldn’t make her this nervous. It never used to. Darcy used to love traveling on planes. It used to remind her of her father. But there are plenty of things that make Darcy nervous and upset that didn’t use to.

You know, most days Darcy doesn't recognize herself. The person she's become is so different than who she used to be. That girl was messy, not afraid to be imperfect, loudmouthed, honest, bright. 

She is not quite those things anymore. 

That girl was lonely, broken, hard on herself, scared.

It's almost nice to know that some things don't change.

She wishes she could go back. She would give everything– though that wouldn't be hard, she has nothing of value, she thinks bitterly– to change an ending or two. Because as much as it's almost nice to know some things don't change, she knows she wouldn't mind the things that have changed if they hadn't changed in a way that left her unrecognizable. 

It's not easy to know she's not anything like she used to be. She liked who she was. She misses who she was. She wishes she had never made that choice that changed her so much.

But really, who could have known? Who would have expected? No one. There was no one who would have predicted it, not even the Star Spangled Man With A Plan, Fucking Captain America.

Well, no, fucking Captain America (Steve Rogers, really) was part of what had gotten her into this mess. But still, not even Captain Fucking America could have seen this one coming. Especially not him.

_Darcy didn’t love him, you know, when she agreed to go out with him. She was head over heels for someone else, her best friend, in fact. But she'd given up all hope of him ever loving her back that very day._

 _Tony was teasing_ him _about how long it'd been since he'd been on a date, and he shot back, “Ask me that again tomorrow.”_

_“What,” Tony smirked, “you got a hot date tonight?”_

_“Maybe I do, Stark. Maybe it’s none of your business,” he drawled._

_Darcy just sat there, focusing on breathing in and out and in and out but it was hard when you felt like you'd just been punched in the gut._

_So when the other one asked her out that same afternoon, she said yes. It was partly an act of spite, and partly to convince herself that even though the one she loved didn't love her, she was still desirable. And the date went well. Really well. He didn't stare at the girls, being the consummate gentleman the whole time. She had fun. He made her feel wanted. So when he stopped at her door at the end of the night and gave her a shy, awkward, but really cute little smile, and said, “Uh, maybe we should do this again sometime...?” she smiled softly at him and said, “I'd like that.”_

_Sitting on the bed they shared, Darcy looked around and she wasn't sure how they'd gotten there. She didn't love him, she'd never loved him, and yet somehow, he was her boyfriend, and they were pretty serious by all accounts. Of course she was still close to all of her old friends, Tony and Bruce and Clint and Natasha and Thor and Pepper and Bucky and Sam and Jane and..._ him...

She doesn't often say the name of the man she loves. It makes her cry.

She doesn't often say the name of the _other one_ , either. It makes Natasha murderous. 

And she is still close to Natasha after everything. Jane and Pepper, too. Darcy’s not ready to be close to the rest of them quite yet. She can't handle her unrequited love– such an insipid phrase but the most appropriate one that lets her avoid his name– especially with... recent developments. But she's not there yet, not thinking about that yet. She doesn’t need to think about that yet.

_Darcy used to feel guilty about not loving him back, you know. She let him convince her, “Aw, baby, you got me. Shouldn't you be spending more time with your boyfriend?” and she talked to her friends less. He convinced her, “Your family's hundreds of miles away and most of them live in the middle of nowhere anyway. You can tell me anything you can tell them,” and she talked to her family less. He told her almost every time she opened her mouth, “No, baby, I've got this. You don't need to talk. I can take care of it,” and she talked less in general._

_She told them (Tony and Bruce and Clint and Natasha and Thor and Pepper and Bucky and Jane and_ him _...), “No, it's just me maturing like five years late. I'm finally mellowing like my grandma’s always half-been after me to do. Don't worry about me. I'm fine.”_

_To Natasha and Pepper and Jane, she confided, “Really, it's fine, I think he just gets upset when he thinks that I don't love him; I love someone else.”_

_Natasha raised one perfectly skeptical eyebrow. Pepper scoffed. Jane rolled her eyes. “But Darcy,” she said very slowly, “you are in love with someone else.”_

_Darcy grimaced. “Yeah. I am. I know I am! But I can't have him. I can have this. And this is okay. There's nothing wrong with this.”_

In the end, it was a good thing she never loved him. He didn't know how to love anyway.

If she'd known that, if she'd known that he could be like that...

But there were so many ifs. Like she remembers her mom always used to say, “Woulda, coulda, shoulda.”

Still...

_She walked out the day he hit her._

_Maybe it had been a long time coming. Still sitting in their apartment, on their bed, she finally saw that everything had gotten to the point where even she couldn't let her willful ignorance blind her to how awful he was being. She wasn't really friends with them anymore, her scientists, beefcakes, the queen of everything and vaguely creepy spysassins, and she missed them. But he didn't want her to be friends with them, so she didn't talk to them. Except Nat. She still went to lunch with Nat a lot. Nat was a scary-ass spysassin who didn't let anyone tell her shit, after all. But she couldn't remember the last time she'd been to the tower. She didn't talk to him anymore. And he used to be her best friend and it killed her more than anything else. She couldn't remember the last time she'd called her grandmother. And it was all because, she realized with dawning horror, of him. He was terrible and controlling and jealous and mean. And Darcy had let him. She'd let him act like that with her. She'd let him walk all over her. And why? Some stupid reason, a need to feel validated, that all seemed so foggy and far away to her._

_He came home in a bad mood, something had happened at work that she didn't actually give a shit about and she couldn't pretend to care anymore, which pissed him off even more._

_She didn't want him to be cruel again, though, so in an effort to de-escalate the situation, she said, “Tell me about something else. How was,” she cast her mind about, nearly frantically searching for something to talk about before she remembered Nat and her mind settled on, “lunch?”_

_He sneered and she felt a pit of dread in her stomach. She'd said the wrong thing. “I saw you,” he spat, “out to lunch with that redheaded bitch.” He advanced on her ever so slightly. “I thought I told you not to hang around them anymore. They're just bad news, baby, especially for you.”_

_Darcy snorted slightly. “You can try to tell me what to do. You might even succeed. But good luck ever telling_ her _what to do.”_

_His face twisted into something terrible and ugly and he seized her wrists. “Maybe I should just keep you with me since you obviously don’t know how to keep yourself out of trouble.”_

_Darcy tipped her chin up and looked at him defiantly. “Maybe you should go fuck yourself.”_

_He hauled his arm back and slapped her across the face. Her head snapped to the left but she swung it back around to glare at him. She wrenched her arm out of his grasp and stormed around his apartment, grabbing a bag and shoving her clothes, books, laptop, chargers, and a couple pictures in it. The whole time, she ignored his increasingly desperate pleas for her to stay, promising he didn't mean it, he was sorry, it would never happen again._

_She didn't believe him._

_As she grabbed her wallet and coat, he caught her wrist again. “Darcy, baby...” He pleaded. “Don't go.”_

_She didn't answer, only shook his hand off and walked out._

_Darcy didn't think, didn't know what she was doing. Her brain had gone on autopilot the second his hand touched her face._

_She didn't even look where she was going, didn't think she actually knew, until she looked up and saw the giant “A” at the top of the tower._

_Still numb, still not sure exactly where she was going, though her subconscious seemed to have an idea, she got into the elevator._

_“Miss Lewis?” JARVIS asked._

_There was no response._

_JARVIS said her name several more times, trying to get her to answer. “Miss Lewis? Miss Lewis?” The AI scanned her briefly and immediately alerted him. He’d asked to know if she ever came to the tower, and specifically instructed JARVIS to let him know immediately if she ever came to the tower, especially if she was injured._

****** __

 _He was sitting on the couch when JARVIS called. “Captain Rogers? Miss Lewis is in the elevator. She was unresponsive to my attempts to talk to her and appears to be slightly in a state of shock. There are bruises around her wrists and a mark on her face but she is otherwise uninjured.” Fury welled up inside of Steve at the news that Darcy was hurt. His hands clenched into fists, knuckles white, and his breathing became harsh._ Fuck, I'm going to tear that fucking asshole limb from limb. __

_“Captain Rogers?” JARVIS repeated. “Miss Lewis will arrive at your floor in approximately one minute five seconds. I suggest you use the time to calm down. Exhibiting signs of anger may only serve to push Miss Lewis further into shock.”_

_Steve exhaled. JARVIS was right. He wasn't going to be any good to Darcy like this. But he was still going to rip the bastard apart._

_Darcy jumped just a little as the elevator dinged, the first sign of life she’d shown since entering the tower. Where did JARVIS take me? she wondered. She looked at the floor she’d stopped on. Of course. Why was she surprised? She shouldn’t be surprised. He had considered her his best friend too, even if he had never loved her back. The elevator doors opened and she stepped out into_ Steve’s _waiting arms._

The plane jolts from unexpected turbulence as she sniffles and wipes at her eyes. No. She shouldn’t have even thought his name. It upsets her every time, without fail, and she cries too easily as it is now, anyway. __

_But he didn’t ask questions. Darcy knew he must have seen her wrists and her face, knew he must know what that meant. He must know why she’s here. But he didn’t say anything, just wrapped her in his arms and held her. She’d always loved his hugs. They made her feel safe._

_“C’mere, Darce,” he said, voice rough as he led her into the apartment. His hands on her were gentle, careful, like she was glass. Honestly, Steve felt like she might as well be glass. He didn’t want to hurt her, never wanted to hurt her, but he had a hunch that it might not be hard to do now. She’d been one of his best friends before that rat bastard came along. Even if she didn’t return his feelings, he still cared about her more than he cared for almost anyone else. Bucky and his mother were the only people who ranked as high. No matter what, he would always do everything he could for her. Cautiously, he sat her down on his sofa. He knelt in front of her, cradling her hands in his. “Darce, sweetheart,” he nearly whispered, “M’gonna go get you some water from the kitchen, okay? I’ll be right back.”_

_She gave him the barest nod to signify that she’d heard him. Satisfied, he walked to the kitchen._

_Darcy absentmindedly rubbed her wrists, feeling the bruises he had left and marveling at the difference between that touch and his touch that she could still feel tingling across her skin. It was, she realized, the difference between someone who truly cared about her and someone who only wanted to control her._

_Steve braced himself against the counter, trying to calm down. He was not the one with reason to be upset. But the woman sitting on his couch was not the same one he'd met almost a year and a half go. The first word he had heard her say was “fuck.” Then she'd followed that up with, “Shit, I'm probably not supposed to cuss in front of the embodiment of truth, justice, and the American way, am I?”_

_He smiled right then, remembering it. He'd said, “No, ma'am, I believe they send Coulson after anyone who does.”_

_“Shit. He'll probably steal my new iPod now,” she’d whined._

_He’d smirked and drawled, “Language.”_

_“Oh, sugar honey iced tea, I just did it again. I swore in front of Captain America.” Then she'd done a double take and peered up at him, her blue eyes searching, piercing him, seeing through to his very soul and far, far past the deadpan expression on his face. Whatever it was she'd been looking for-- the glint of mischief in his eyes, perhaps-- it seemed she found it, because her face had split into a wide grin and she offered him her hand. “The name's Darcy Lewis, Captain.”_

_He had shaken her hand. “Steve Rogers.”_

_Her grin had only widened. “Steve, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”_

_If he was being honest with himself, that was when he fell in love with Darcy Lewis._

_They'd only gotten closer and he'd only fallen deeper. He knew so much about her: from her favorite color, food, season, to the fights she'd had as a little girl and that her grandma would make chili for her when she got sick. He knew her. He knew her and that fucking bastard asshole there wasn't a bad enough word to describe had done his best to destroy her._

_But he'd promised Darcy water. He'd promised Darcy he'd be right back. So he grabbed a glass and filled it with ice and water and headed back out into the living room._

_Darcy looked up as he walked back into the room and handed her a glass of water. He sat down near her on the couch but didn't move to touch her until she reached out for him. Then, cautiously and deliberately, making sure to give her enough time to reject him if she so wished, he pulled her into his lap._

_“Steve?” she said quietly and he could cry because it was the first thing she'd said to anyone since the bastard hit her and it was_ his name _._

_But he didn't cry, just softly murmured, “Yeah?” into her hair._

_“Can I... can I stay here tonight?”_

_“Of course you can,” he said. “D’you want to shower? Then you can sleep in my bed. If you want, of course, I mean...”_

_She nodded. “But...” she hesitated. “I haven’t got any pajamas.”_

_“That’s alright,” he softly rubbed her shoulder. “You can borrow some of mine. Sound okay?”_

_She nodded._

_“Then that's what we'll do,” he said decisively. Having a plan really did make him feel better, less helpless. He'd felt helpless plenty of times, and he'd be more than okay with never feeling helpless again._

_After Darcy fell asleep, he went up to the kitchen in the common area. He didn’t want to leave her, but he’d ordered a fuckton of food when Tony had insisted that it was Chinese takeout night and he didn’t really want to leave it there. Besides, Darcy loved Chinese and he was planning on bringing her back some of her favorites. He was rummaging through several containers looking for the lo mein when he heard someone clear their throat behind him._

_He spun around to see all of the very most dangerous of the tower’s inhabitants standing there vaguely threateningly. “Punk,” Bucky nodded at him. “Why didn’t you tell us Darce was back?”_

_Steve’s eyes trailed over the people standing in front of him: Jane and Thor, who were holding hands and giving him twin looks of wariness, Tony and Pepper, who stood with their arms folded across their chests with Bruce behind them, looking calmly threatening, if that was possible, Natasha, red eyebrow raised in her trademark Look, Clint next to her with broad arms that hung tense by his side, and Sam a half-step behind Bucky, who was standing at the front of the group. “I was gonna,” he said half-sheepishly. “But she was in a bad way when she got here and I didn't know if she'd want a bunch of people around, and I didn't really want to leave her alone anyway.”_

_Bucky looked at him, clearly thinking, “Are you_ stupid _?” He was not hesitant about expressing that either. “Are you stupid, punk? If she’s in a bad way, why is she all alone right now?” He scoffed. “Dumbass.”_

_Steve rubbed the back of his neck. “She took a shower and she’s sleeping now. I don’t think she’s eaten anything since lunch–”_

_“She hasn’t,” Natasha said flatly. “I went to lunch with her.”_

_Steve nodded. “So I figured she’d be hungry if she woke up again and I remembered that it was Chinese takeout night, so,” he gestured around him._

_“Alright,” Bucky nodded suspiciously, “you get a pass on that then. But you still should have told us she was here. I know you know how to use a phone. Texting one of us wouldn’t have taken five seconds.”_

_“Yeah,” Tony chimes in. “I had to find out from JARVIS, from my own AI, about things happening in my tower!” He shrugged and tilted his head to the side. “Granted, that was part of the reason I installed an AI in the first place.”_

_Pepper gave him a quelling look and he shut up. Jane tugged Thor’s hand and she stepped forward, eyes flashing. “I've been so worried about her! She's like my sister, and Thor actually adopted her into his family! You should have told us!”_

_Steve stepped back almost unnoticeably. Hey, Dr. Foster was a scary dame when she was angry. “You're right, I know, I should have told you,” he held his hands up placatingly. “I know you’ve all been worried about her. I’m sorry.”_

_Jane nodded in acceptance of his apology, but her eyes were still narrowed at him._

_Silence reigned in the kitchen, a little unpleasant and more than a little bit awkward, until Clint asked the most obvious question. “What now?”_

_Pepper and Natasha exchanged a glance. “We shouldn’t wake her up. She’s been through a lot. We should let her come to us,” Pepper said logically._

_Natasha and Bruce nodded. “Go ahead and take the food downstairs, Steve. We’ll deal with it in the morning,” Natasha said decisively._

_“And remember, punk,” Bucky steps forward again threateningly, “there isn’t one of us who won’t fuck you up if you fuck with her._

****** __

_Darcy rolled over. “Steve?” she asked._

_“M’right here, doll,” he said softly. He couldn't help himself. She was wearing his clothes, sleeping in his bed, and it was so domestic it killed him. He reached out and softly stroked her cheek._

_“Do you have food? I'm hungry,” she almost whined._

_He grinned. Now that sounded like his Darcy. “Yeah. There's some Chinese takeout in the kitchen.”_

_She looked almost hesitant and it was a slap-in-the-face reminder of what had happened to her. She never would have hesitated, would have grabbed his hand and dragged him out to the kitchen. “Do you want to go get some?” he asked. It seemed important to remind her that she had a choice, he would always let her choose, even if that choice isn't him._

_On second thought, maybe he should stop at that first thing. The rest might be a little heavy right now._

_Darcy was quiet as she thought about what she wanted. It'd been a long time since anyone had asked her to choose and truly meant it. And yes, she was hungry. “Yes,” she nodded decisively. “I'm hungry.”_

_He offered her his hand and she took it. He let her lead them out into the kitchen, then offered, “If you want, doll, I can put us together a couple plates of the food. Just tell me what you want.”_

_She nodded and sat down at the kitchen table, murmuring, “Yes,” or, “No,” as he quietly held up boxes to ask her if she wanted what was inside. Even that little bit of control felt so indescribably good to her._

_He handed her a plate and sat down next to her. It was terribly quiet as they ate. Steve really didn't know what to say. He was miles out of his depth. Darcy was still very slowly working to get to a place where she could just talk to people after that afternoon._

But it was Steve, and even if now she chokes and tears up whenever she so much as hears his name, he was her best friend. She trusted him– no, she still trusts him– more than anyone else. __

_So she took his hand and led him back to the bedroom. He sat on the bed while she brushed her teeth and braided her hair when she asked him to. And when she was snug under the covers of his bed, she looked up at him with giant blue eyes and in a tiny voice, asked, “Stay?”_

_There was no way this could end well, and God, it was probably a terrible idea, but he'd be damned if he could ever deny her anything. So he crawled under the covers, slipped his arm around her waist, tugged her back to his chest, and held her until they both fell asleep._

*****

Darcy remembers what happened next vividly. She could never forget it, though she wished to God that she could. It was burned onto her mind, a firebrand that was there every time that she closed her eyes.

How she'd awakened to find him looking down at her with an impossibly soft look on his face.

How she'd felt her breath catch and she leaned into kiss him, and it felt like two magnets being inexorably drawn to each other with no power to resist.

How they hadn't stopped and it had been so good, he made her feel so good.

How after, the look on his face had been tinged instead with the shock and the horror of what they'd done.

How he'd apologized for taking advantage of her and she'd blinked back tears and told him he hadn't, it was just bad late night decisions and emotions running high and a need for comfort.

How she'd stayed the rest of the night but left early in the morning and went to Natasha’s rooms and she would've gone to Jane’s but Thor was there and she knew Nat would be alone. 

How Nat had hugged her and not asked a single question, just let her go about the apartment like everything was normal, she was just ignoring yesterday and all the months before that for good measure.

How she'd gone back to assisting the Science! Triplets for two months and avoided Steve like the plague, pretending nothing had ever happened because fuck, she just couldn't take it anymore.

But then... Like her life was just some big cosmic joke, things had gotten even more terrible and more complicated and dear God, _why_?

She knows. She will never forget that day, either.

*****

_Darcy woke up and rushed to the toilet. “Oh, fuck,” she groaned._

_Natasha appeared over her shoulder. (Since she’d come back everyone seemed to have thought it wise that she wasn’t alone too much. She didn’t mind. Being alone with her thoughts... Well, it was better to have people around. Mostly.) “Darcy? What's wrong?”_

_“Damned Chinese takeout,” she huffed. “Probably just food poisoning.”_

_The spy arched a single eyebrow._

_Darcy looked at her. “What?”_

_“I don’t think it’s food poisoning, Darcy,” Natasha said as gently as she possibly could._

_Darcy’s face went white. “No.” She shook her head, looking more ill than when she had been throwing up. “No. That’s not possible.”_

_“Isn’t it?”_

_It was and they both knew it. But she couldn’t be. She couldn’t. She just couldn’t! And she felt a sob bubble up in her throat._

_(But she was. She knew she was.)_

_Natasha rubbed her back. “I’ll ask Pepper to get the necessary items. Jane, Pepper, and I will all be here for you.”_

_Darcy nodded but the words only vaguely registered. That fog had come back and enveloped her. Her mind was trapped in a tiny panic room along with the idea of... well, she wouldn’t think about that quite yet. Not again, anyway. She’d thought about it a couple days ago, enough to look into her options, and that had hurt enough. She wouldn’t think about it again until she was sure it was something she had to think about._

_She was still sitting on the bathroom floor when Natasha came back with Jane and Pepper in tow. Pepper silently extended her hand and tugged Darcy from the floor. “Come on, we're going to go to Medical. Blood tests are much more reliable. JARVIS and Doctor Frost already agreed to keep it confidential, anyway.”_

_Darcy didn't argue. She let herself be led to Medical, didn't protest when they took her blood, didn't break down when it confirmed what she'd already known. She waited until she was back in her rooms that Tony had had made up for her on day three of her arrival, seated on the couch with Pepper and Jane and Natasha still there. Then she looked up at the ceiling and said, “JARVIS?”_

_“Yes, Ms. Lewis?”_

_“When I... came back, you gave me a full body scan, right?”_

_“That is correct.”_

_She hesitated, unsure of how to form her next question. Jane’s hand tightened on her, trying to reassure her. Darcy took a deep breath. “Um, in that scan...” She trailed off._

_“If I may, Ms. Lewis, the scan records indicate you were not pregnant when you entered the tower.”_

_“Yeah,” she took another deep breath. “Yeah, that's what I thought.” She swallowed hard. “So, the baby...”_

_The AI’s voice was gentle as he informed her of what she needed but didn't want to hear. “The baby is unquestionably Captain Rogers’.”_

_That was it. That was all it took for Darcy to finally break down. Her face collapsed and she curled up, crying into her knees._

_“Wait,” Jane shook her head, “you slept with Steve?”_

_Darcy nodded miserably. “Only once,” she said almost pleadingly. She sighed and raked a hand through her hair. “I guess that was enough. Damned super swimmers,” she spat._

_Pepper looked at her sympathetically. “Darcy... what are you going to do?”_

_She laughed bitterly. “I'm not telling Steve, that's for sure.”_

_Jane looked at her. “Are you going to get an abortion?” she asked bluntly._

_Darcy wiped tears off her face and laughed again. “I can’t just abort baby America,” she said with burning sarcasm. “Besides, can you see Steve’s face if he ever found out? He’d do that thing where he looks like you kicked a puppy, but it’d be a million times worse because it’s not a puppy, it’s a baby.”_

_Natasha had been quiet until now, curled against Darcy’s back, offering her silent support. But she couldn’t be quiet after that. “No.” Darcy looked at her. “You can’t think about it like that. It isn’t Steve’s body. It’s yours. You get to decide what to do with it. Don’t let him or anyone else influence your choice.”_

_Darcy wiped yet more tears from her face before she spoke again. “You’re right, I know, I just...” She sighed. “If it were anyone else’s, I could do it. Really. I could do it and I probably wouldn’t regret it. But... it’s Steve. It’s Steve and me and I’m already half-thinking about baby names and I can’t do it, Nat, I just can’t.” They sat in heavy silence for half a minute before she spoke again. “I already knew I was pregnant. I suspected, anyway. And I tried to look at the nearest clinics, in case I needed them, but I started crying halfway through just thinking about it.”_

_Natasha nodded. “Okay, so you’re keeping the baby.” She glared at the other two as if they would have said anything to discourage Darcy or demean her choice._

_Pepper looked at her. “Darcy...” she said gently, “if you keep the baby, you have to tell him.”_

_“No. I won’t. He doesn’t need to know.”_

_Jane, Pepper, and Natasha looked at her with varying degrees of disbelief on their faces. Well, no, Natasha’s face was more promising that no one would ever find out if Darcy didn’t want them to. But still, Natasha said, “Darcy, Steve cares about you.”_

_“No,” Darcy shook her head. “He thinks of me as a friend.” She rubbed a hand across her face and sighed. “There’s a difference between that and how I feel. I love him. I can’t have that imbalance. I can't deal with it, Natasha. I can't do it.”_

_Natasha gave her another facial expression, this time one that very clearly said that that was totally dumb and Steve loved her, but Darcy still couldn’t believe it. Maybe it was her own insecurity speaking, maybe it was a product of the last few months, but she couldn’t believe it. She repeated stubbornly, “I’m not telling him.”_

_“How are you going to keep him from finding out? Thor’s the god of fertility, he knows about stuff like this,” Pepper pointed out. “And he’s not usually all that subtle. He’d tell Steve without knowing any better.”_

_“I think I need to get out of here anyway,” Darcy bit her lip, “but I was thinking I could stay with my Grandma Carter. At least until I have the baby. Like, a sort of extended maternity leave. Then we could make up a story or tell them the baby’s mine and just not tell them about the father, I don’t care. We’d have a good ten months to figure it out anyway since I’ll probably want to wait till they’re a couple months old before I come back anyway.”_

_“Grandma Carter?” Jane’s face was puzzled. “Doesn’t she live in Wyoming? I thought you hated going to Wyoming. And you said that living there was, and I quote, ‘like being trapped in old-timey Westerner hell where everyone listens to country music and no one’s ever heard of intersectional feminism.’”_

_“Yeah,” Darcy shrugged, “but I really love her. Just hate Wyoming. Nothing ever happens there, and it’s not like I can go stay with my parents. As long as no one finds out that I'm carrying Captain America’s baby, I probably won't be in any danger. There aren't enough people in Wyoming to make attacking it worthwhile unless, like, all the major cities are down, and if that happens, we'll have bigger problems.”_

*****

Darcy cries (yes, _again_ , dammit) when she gets off the plane and she sees her grandma. Her grandma hugs her and holds her hand the whole way home. She didn't say goodbye to anyone but Pepper, Jane, and Natasha. They'd told the others her grandma needed her, she'd gotten sick. Darcy convinced Pepper to let her fly commercial. It would raise less questions. (She still had a first class ticket because heaven forbid Pepper let her fly coach.)

They get to the little two-story house where Darcy spent a lot of her summers growing up and where she lived after her parents died when she was thirteen until she went to college. Everything is so familiar she wants to cry from the ache of it. She smells scones and maple frosting and chili, and even though it's March and she can feel spring in the air instead of winter, she still loves it. It feels like home.

She hasn’t told her grandma why she’s there yet. It’s not that she thinks her grandma would disapprove, necessarily. Really, Grandma will probably be more upset with him than her. Grandma believes quite firmly that men have a responsibility to stand by the women they get pregnant, and until women can freely walk away from pregnancies, men shouldn’t be able to either. (Yeah, her grandma’s pro-choice. And kind of fucking awesome.)

But oh, it’s just so hard to talk about and Darcy just knows she’ll cry and she hates crying and she cries too much as it is, so for tonight, she forgets about it. Not entirely, of course, and she can feel her grandmother’s sharp blue eyes on her when she refuses a glass of wine. _Might not have to tell her anything,_ she thinks wryly, _she’ll probably just guess._

*****

She shouldn’t be surprised the next morning when Grandma Carter comes upstairs after Darcy’s showered and dressed and sits down on her bed. She pats the space next to her and Darcy sits next to her wordlessly.

Her grandmother puts an arm around her and she leans into the touch. “When you didn’t tell me why you wanted to stay out here with me for a few months, I thought that there must be something wrong, something with that job of yours, maybe. I didn’t guess this.”

“Guess what?” Darcy said, her mouth dry.

“Don’t play dumb with me, sweetie. You’re pregnant, aren’t you?” The older woman’s other hand reaches down for Darcy’s and rubs it.

Darcy blinks back tears. Dammit. “Yes.”

Grandma Carter sighs. “The father?”

Darcy shakes her head and focuses on the long, dark waves swinging back and forth. “He doesn't know.”

The arm across Darcy’s shoulders moves down and its hand rubs slow circles on her back. “Do you want to talk about it? You're out here because you're avoiding him, aren't you? You don't want him to know.”

Darcy tears herself away from her grandmother’s touch. “He was my best friend,” she says in a small voice. “And I totally ruined it! I slept with him! And I got pregnant from it and I didn't tell him and I don't want to because I am a hot mess and he's got enough ruining his life as it is, he doesn't need me, too!” Her voice rises steadily until it cracks on the last word and suddenly she's sobbing as her grandmother pulls her into her lap and rocks her back and forth, just like she used to when Darcy was little at her house in the summer and came running inside crying because she had scraped her knee.

“No, darling, you aren't a hot mess and you aren't ruining his life. You wouldn't. You didn't. If he doesn't love you back, if he's upset that you're pregnant and keeping the baby, he doesn't deserve you and he isn't worth it.” Grandma Carter strokes her hair.

“No, no. He... well, he doesn't love me back, but I think I've ruined myself for all other men anyway, so, too late there.” She breathes in at that, a sharp gasp of air, and somehow, the very essence of that breath sounds bitter. “But he wouldn't be upset about being a father, I don't think. Just... I don't think he'd want kids with me. And he deserves better than me. I don't want him to be stuck with me,” she laughs self-deprecatingly.

Grandma Carter pulls back and looks at Darcy with a fierce glint in her eye. “There is no one better than you. He doesn't deserve you. You are amazing.”

Darcy looks down. “But he's so much better than me, Grandma. You have no idea.” She shakes her head and laughs again, because who could guess? Not even the woman who raised her would–

“Who on earth could he possibly be, that he's better than you?” Captain America?” Her grandma huffs.

Darcy tenses immediately at the sound of his alter ego and her eyes tear up again. Grandma Carter has a look of dread dawning on her face. “It isn't...” she says in a hushed, horrified whisper.

Darcy nods miserably. “It is.” Tears are streaming down her face and _fuck_ , she hates crying. “His name is Steve Rogers and he's the best man I know.” And she's sobbing again and she almost can't breathe and it must be at least ten minutes before she finally gains enough control of herself to quiet.

Her grandma rocks her back and forth, murmuring, “Oh, honey, it’s okay. Things will work out. I promise.” They sit for a few minutes before she says, “And just for the record: lots of people end up sleeping with their best friends. We usually just call it dating.”

*****

March, April, and May are uneventful months. Darcy babysits her cousins, nieces, and nephews (when her head isn't in a toilet, anyway) and helps her grandma with whatever she can. One morning in June, she wakes up, and she looks pregnant. Suddenly, there's a bump in her stomach where it used to be mostly flat. She spends the day in her pajamas with her hand on her stomach, thinking of Steve.

The Fourth of July comes around and she feels like crying anyway because it's his birthday and she guesses her baby must know because that's the very first day she feels her baby kick. All she’s doing is laying there in the early morning and talking to her baby. Darcy sings them a lullaby that her mother used to sing, and whispers, “Remember: your mommy loves you very much, and,” her throat closes and she tears up, but she still chokes out, “I’m sure your daddy would too, in spite of everything.” And she’s been so scared that she hasn’t been able to feel her baby kick and she’s at twenty-five weeks, more than halfway there, that it seems like a cruel cosmic joke that her baby finally kicks the first time she mentions their father.

She almost doesn't get out of bed at all that day, but her favorite aunt comes upstairs and tells her she loves her and that’s why she made her favorite dessert (chocolate cream pie with copious amounts of whipped cream) and if she gets out of bed and comes to watch the fireworks, she can have some. She doesn’t even have to get dressed, Aunt Rebecca promises.

Her family is all outside on the patio. Every one of them hugs her. She suspects Aunt Ruth told all the little ones that they had to be extra nice to her. Her grandmother pulls her to her side and kisses her forehead.

“How are you?”

Darcy rubs her stomach. She’s wearing a black tanktop with Captain America’s shield on the stomach. Maybe it’s stupid or silly, but his symbol over the place where their baby grows inside of her make her feel like he's with them, like he could actually want her and her baby, _love_ her and her baby. She wears it when her ache for him threatens to envelop her entirely. Grandma Carter gives her a knowing look every time, but no one else has figured out who the father of her baby is. Who would possibly? It’s not like she’s told most of them what her job is anyway. “I’m alright. I just...” Darcy bites her lip. “I felt the baby kick for the first time.”

Her whole family crowds around her, the older ones offering congratulations and the kids asking if they can feel too. It's moments like this she almost forgets how much she misses Tony and Bruce and Clint and Natasha and Thor and Pepper and Bucky and Jane. Mostly, though, she just misses Steve.

*****

Steve doesn't mean to eavesdrop, really, he doesn't. But once he knows who Jane is talking to, he can't help it. He hasn't talked to Darcy in the more than six months since she left. Actually, he hasn’t talked to her since the night she came back. She didn’t seem to want to talk to him after that night and he understood completely. Steve is still disgusted with himself for taking advantage of her. Bucky promised that they would all fuck him up for fucking with her. He guesses he’s lucky they don’t know that he fucked her. (It wasn’t like that for him, though. For him, it was making love. Maybe it sounds sappy, but it was true.) But she was emotionally vulnerable and she didn’t return his feelings and he knew that but he slept with her anyway. Really, he can’t blame her for not wanting to talk to him anymore, for maybe even hating him. He knows he hates himself. (He had hoped she might say something on his birthday last week, but she had been just as silent as any other day.)

So when he hears Jane say Darcy’s name, hears her voice on the other end of the line, he freezes. And God, he could stay there forever just listening to the sound of her voice, but then something Jane says catches his attention.

“How's the baby?”

“Ugh,” Darcy moans, “I can't believe that I was ever worried about this kid not kicking. I swear, they're gonna be a soccer player or something. I think my insides are permanently bruised.”

Jane laughs but Steve cannot move. “Did you ever decide if you want to know the sex?”

The line is quiet for a few moments. “It just... It doesn't feel right to decide without him.”

Jane looks exasperated. “Well, you didn’t exactly give him the choice to be involved,” she points out. “He can’t be there for you. He doesn’t even know you’re pregnant.”

“I know, I know!” Her voice is somewhere in between crying and shouting and it punches Steve in the gut. She shouldn’t ever feel upset. He hates it when she’s upset. She deserves nothing but happiness and he wishes so much... No, no, no, no, no, he would only make it worse. “But I can’t tell him, Jane, I just can’t! I know... I know he doesn’t want me. He doesn’t feel the same way. But he would stick around because of the baby. You know how he is. I can’t tie him to us like that. It wouldn’t be fair.”

Steve doesn’t know who this moron is but he’d like to kick his ass. How could anyone have Darcy’s love and not want it? How could anyone not love her children?

(He loves her. Oh, God, he loves her, and he already loves her baby simply for being hers.)

Jane shifts and moves some papers around, switching her phone to her other ear. “What are you going to do when you come back to the tower? What if the baby looks like him? He’s not an idiot. He’ll put two and two together eventually.”

Darcy sniffles. “I don’t know. The plan was pretty much to take care of my baby, go back to wrangling my scientists, and let Nat take care of everything else.”

Natasha is almost ridiculously protective of Darcy, Steve nods. She treats her like a sister or something. No one would pull any shit on Darcy with Natasha around.

“And besides,” Darcy sighs, “if he does figure it out, he’ll probably just be glad that I didn’t stick him with a human disaster and her illegitimate child.”

Jane makes a noise of protest but there isn’t time to argue over it because Darcy tells her that she has to go, she has a doctor’s appointment. Jane lets her go with a promise that they will talk more about that later, then goes back to muttering to herself and working on whatever it is she's doing, Steve doesn't really know. She looks up after a few minutes. “Hey, Steve.” His face must still be white as sheet because she does a double take and asks, “Are you okay?”

Steve gestures to the phone. “Darcy.” He takes a half step forward. “She’s pregnant?”

Jane blanches. “You heard that?”

“I’m sorry,” Steve looks at his feet. “I didn’t mean to intrude or invade your privacy.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I just...”

She looks at him with shrewd eyes (has Natasha been giving her lessons, too?) and says, “You just miss her.”

He nods. The question is still pressing on his mind and although he knows he probably shouldn’t ask it, he can’t quite help himself when he blurts out, “Who’s the father?”

“Nope!” Jane exclaims. His face falls and is tinged with... regret? guilt? hurt? She isn’t sure, but it makes her soften. “I can’t tell you. She’d kill me.” Steve can feel his features rearranging into what Darcy laughingly calls his “kicked puppy face,” but he doesn’t try to combat it. He’s learned. That look can get him places. “Oh, fine,” Jane sighs. “Look, I really can’t tell you. She probably wouldn’t ever talk to me again. Besides, you should ask her anyway. It isn’t my story to tell.”

Steve thanks her and begins to walk away. She calls after him and he turns around. “A word of advice: she has a hell of a hard time lying, especially to you, but she definitely won’t be able to lie to you if you talk to her face to face.”

He nods and thanks her again, heading towards the door when his phone goes off. A call to assemble? He furrows his brow before picking up. “Tony? What’s the situation?”

“Darcy. She set off the panic button on her StarkPhone. JARVIS activated her tracker. It looks like she's been kidnapped.”

*****

Darcy huffs. The self-defense moves that Natasha taught her an age ago apparently work better if you’re not seven months pregnant. Her wrists are handcuffed together and she's sitting in the middle of a barn somewhere outside town. 

These kidnappers seem pretty amateur to her. She was in the parking lot of her obstetrician’s office when those dumbasses tried to grab her. Her reactions weren't as fast as they should have been and she can hear Nat chewing her out right now for not paying attention to her surroundings, being too comfortable. There wasn't time for her to grab her taser, but she pressed the button on her phone Tony had installed.

Now, the men in black (she smirks a tiny bit at her own joke) huddle in a corner of the barn arguing and periodically pointing to her. It's obvious they didn't expect her to be heavily pregnant and are unsure of what to do now. She thinks that means they're probably not HYDRA, and they definitely aren't after her baby. Thank God. Hopefully they just want some of Jane’s Science, or maybe Tony or Bruce’s. Doesn't matter. She can't tell them anything. She’d have to understand it first. And she is definitely not the Science Triplets’ assistant because she's good at science, no. She's just really fucking awesome at telling people what to do.

It occurs to her that she should think about swearing less unless she wants the baby’s first word to be ‘fuck’. She smiles. It would be sort of fitting, since that was her first word to Steve.

Darcy rests her head on the back of the chair she's tied to. Really, those morons will probably distract each other until the Avengers get here to rescue her. There might not be an opportunity for her to run her smartass mouth, which is probably a good thing. That's what got her arm broken the last time.

She lets her mind wander from topic to topic, wondering what Grandma Carter is making for dinner, thinking about her obstetrician's appointment, hoping she can reschedule.

The Kidnapping Morons look over to her simultaneously and she sighs. Looks like they've decided what they're going to do. They advance on her and she rolls her eyes. So maybe there’ll be time for arm-breaking after all. Hers, unless she figures out how to maneuver with her giant baby bump sometime in the next thirty seconds.

Almost as soon as she thinks that, the door of the barn comes crashing in. Steve’s shield flies in with the wreckage and he charges in, Bucky and Thor hot on his heels. Tony crashes in from the ceiling, Natasha gracefully dropping down and Sam swooping in behind him. In about three seconds flat, her five attackers are lying dazed on the ground as Clint drops down from the loft and helps Natasha handcuff them.

Steve rushes over to her and she only has a brief second to be embarrassed that she’s wearing the shield tanktop again (don’t judge her, the doctor’s appointments were getting more painful as she got farther along) before he’s untying her and rubbing her wrists and pulling her close to him. “Darcy,” he murmurs into her hair. “Are you hurt?” He pulls back and looks at her, runs his hands over her body, checking for injuries.

“No,” she breathes. “No, I'm not hurt.”

“Oh, thank God!” He pulls her back into his chest, holding her tight. The baby kicks her stomach and he must feel it because he shifts away from her the barest amount to look down at her stomach in wonder. Darcy sees the exact moment when he realizes his shield is stretched over her baby bump. His eyes widen and he reaches down almost reverently to trace the star emblazoned on her swollen belly. The baby kicks again, hard, almost as soon as his fingers touch her skin.

Darcy gasps a little. “Can you feel that?” He nods, looking close to tears.

The moment is totally interrupted by Thor booming, “Captain Rogers, there will be time to greet your offspring later. For now, we must get my little lightening sister back to the others in her family. They will be worried.”

Steve nods and stands up, extending a hand to Darcy, who seems frozen in her seat. “Really not a good time, Thor,” she says through tightly clenched teeth.

Thor looks at her strangely. “Was the Captain unaware?”

Steve blinks. Wait. _Unaware of what?_

Wait. _His offspring?_

Oh, _fuck._

*****

Darcy watches Steve nervously. He’s maybe in some sort of shock, hasn’t talked or moved since the revelation of who the father of her baby must be. She reaches a hand out to him and tugs him upward and out to the quinjet. He doesn’t say anything, just blindly follows her. “Oh my God,” she whispers, staring at him absolutely horrified. “I broke him.” Tony starts cracking up in the background. Asshole.

The flight to her grandmother’s house is quiet. They land in the backyard without much fuss. Her grandmother comes out and sees all the people spilling out of the quinjet, looks at Darcy, and says, “It looks like I’ll need to make some more food for lunch.”

Seriously, her grandma is awesome.

Steve is still holding onto Darcy’s hand, is still quiet, and still hasn’t moved apart from her directing him. Her grandma comes up and hugs her, saying, “Alright, sweetie, I’ll take care of everyone else. I’m sure they can help me with lunch just fine. You go upstairs and talk to your captain.” Darcy begins to protest but she is cut off. “Don’t you worry about us,” she winks. “I’m sure we’ll all be the best of friends by the time you come back downstairs.”

Darcy tugs Steve upstairs to her room. She curls up on her bed and he follows her numbly, curling up with her and pulling her into his lap so that her head rests in the curve of his neck. His hand cradles her belly. “Hey,” she whispers.

“Darcy,” he breathes. The way he says her name, like it’s a prayer, a benediction, a salvation, sends shivers up her spine.

She turns her head into his neck so her lips are pressed against the skin above his collarbone. “I'm sorry,” she says.

He starts and looks at her in confusion and she's never been religious but she silently says a prayer of thanks because he's looking at her and reacting and thank God. “What do you have to be sorry for?” he asks with a look of puzzlement on his face.

She focuses her gaze on her hands and mutters, “I should have told you.”

Steve tucks her head back under his chin. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I know... you didn't want to tell me. I don’t blame you. I...” He struggles to say what he knows he must. “I took advantage of you. We were at an imbalance, you were vulnerable, and I took advantage of that. I’m sorry.”

It is Darcy’s turn to sit up and look at him in utter bewilderment. “What are you talking about? I’m the idiot who totally ruined her relationship with her best friend by falling for him and then sleeping with him when he felt bad for me.”

Steve’s face is something awestruck and beautiful. “Falling for him?” he asks slowly.

“Yeah,” Darcy nods, bites her lip, and looks back down at her hands. “I love you?” she offers. “I guess I should tell you, since, you know, I’m pregnant with your baby and, well, you know.” She feels impossibly awkward and curses her lack of eloquence.

“You love me?” Steve’s face breaks into a grin and he feels something like a warm summer sun lighting him up from the inside out.

“Yeah.” This time she giggles a little bit, a tiny gasp of laughter.

He leans in and kisses her then, and it is the soft press of lips against lips, sweet and tender and slow. There will be time for the rough passionate stuff later. At least, there will be if Darcy has anything to say about it, because going off the last time this happened, rough passion was fucking great. “Good,” he tells her very seriously, humor and love and joy in his eyes as he pulls away from her and lets their breaths mingle, “because I'm in love with you too.”

*****

Now, Darcy and Steve dance in their room in the tower. He pulls her as close to him as the swell of her stomach will allow and kisses her forehead. There will be time in the future for everything: time for proper dance lessons and moving her stuff in with his, making Steve’s apartment finally feel like home, time for movie nights and pizza and baking cookies in the kitchen together, time for fights and late nights and worry.

And of course there will be time for a little girl born early one foggy September morning, time to decide on a name– Evelyn because even though Darcy may not be practicing, her daughter will have a Hebrew name and it means “life,” which she finds very appropriate, and the name is familiar enough to Steve to be comforting but not painful, Sarah for Darcy’s grandmother and Steve’s mother, and Lewis-Rogers because Darcy wants to hyphenate and Steve tells her that since she's the one giving birth, she can do whatever the hell she wants. There will be time for Bucky to laugh at the name Evelyn Sarah Lewis-Rogers and say it's ridiculously long for such a tiny thing, and he's calling her Evvy. There will be time for her blue eyes and dark hair and laughter, time for her first words and first steps and first falls.

There will be time, later, for a beautiful ring that Bucky agrees looks just like Steve’s ma’s, and a white dress. There will be time for Evvy to run giggling down an aisle, tossing flowers as her father grins at her and her mother smiles as she watches the scene from the doorway of the church.

There will be time for the rest of their lives.

But right now, there is time for Darcy to laugh at Steve for being such as sap as they sway together in the living room because he told her he missed dancing with her. Right now, there is time for this.


End file.
